1 I   AM the man which have affliction seene,

Under the rod of Gods wrath having beene,

2   He hath led mee to darknesse, not to light,

1803   And against mee all day, his hand doth fight.

4     Hee hath broke my bones, worne out my flesh and skinne,

5   Built up against mee; and hath girt mee in

With hemlocke, and with labour;  6  and set mee

In darke, as they who dead for ever bee.

1857   Hee hath hedg'd me lest I scape, and added more

To my steele fetters, heavier then before.

8   When I crie out, he out shuts my prayer:  9  And hath

Stop'd with hewn stone my way, and turn'd my path.

10   And like a Lion hid in secrecie,

190Or Beare which lyes in wait, he was to mee.

11   He stops my way, teares me, made desolate,

12   And hee makes mee the marke he shooteth at.

13   Hee made the children of his quiver passe

Into my reines,  14  I with my people was

195All the day long, a song and mockery.

15   Hee hath fill'd mee with bitternesse, and he

Hath made me drunke with wormewood.  16  He hath burst

My teeth with stones, and covered mee with dust;

17   And thus my Soule farre off from peace was set,

200And my prosperity I did forget.

18   My strength, my hope (unto my selfe I said)

Which from the Lord should come, is perished.

19   But when my mournings I do thinke upon,

My wormwood, hemlocke, and affliction,

20520   My Soule is humbled in remembring this;

21   My heart considers, therefore, hope there is.

22   'Tis Gods great mercy we'are not utterly

Consum'd, for his compassions do not die;

23   For every morning they renewed bee,

210For great, O Lord, is thy fidelity.

24   The Lord is, saith my Soule, my portion,

And therefore in him will I hope alone.

25   The Lord is good to them, who on him relie,

And to the Soule that seeks him earnestly.

21526   It is both good to trust, and to attend

(The Lords salvation) unto the end:

27   'Tis good for one his yoake in youth to beare;

28   He sits alone, and doth all speech forbeare,

Because he hath borne it.  29  And his mouth he layes

220Deepe in the dust, yet then in hope he stayes.

30   He gives his cheekes to whosoever will

Strike him, and so he is reproched still.

31   For, not for ever doth the Lord forsake,

32   But when he'hath strucke with sadnes, hee doth take

225Compassion, as his mercy'is infinite;

33   Nor is it with his heart, that he doth smite;

34   That underfoot the prisoners stamped bee,

35   That a mans right the Judge himselfe doth see

To be wrung from him,  36  That he subverted is

230In his just cause; the Lord allowes not this.

37   Who then will say, that ought doth come to passe,

But that which by the Lord commanded was?

38   Both good and evill from his mouth proceeds;

39   Why then grieves any man for his misdeeds?

23540   Turne wee to God, by trying out our wayes;

41   To him in heaven, our hands with hearts upraise.

42   Wee have rebell'd, and falne away from thee,

Thou pardon'st not;  43  Usest no clemencie;

Pursuest us, kill'st us, coverest us with wrath,

24044   Cover'st thy selfe with clouds, that our prayer hath

No power to passe.  45  And thou hast made us fall

As refuse, and off-scouring to them all.

46   All our foes gape at us.  47  Feare and a snare

With ruine, and with waste, upon us are.

24548   With watry rivers doth mine eye oreflow

For ruine of my peoples daughter so;

49   Mine eye doth drop downe teares incessantly,

50   Untill the Lord looke downe from heaven to see.

51   And for my citys daughters sake, mine eye

250Doth breake mine heart.  52  Causles mine enemy,

Like a bird chac'd me.  53  In a dungeon

They have shut my life, and cast on me a stone.

54   Waters flow'd o'r my head, then thought I, I am

Destroy'd;  55  I called Lord, upon thy name

255Out of the pit.  56  And thou my voice didst heare;

Oh from my sigh, and crye, stop not thine eare.

57   Then when I call'd upon thee, thou drew'st nere

Unto mee, and said'st unto mee, do not feare.

58   Thou Lord my Soules cause handled hast, and thou

260Rescud'st my life.  59  O Lord do thou judge now,

Thou heardst my wrong.  60  Their vengeance all they have wrought;

61   How they reproach'd, thou hast heard, and what they thought,

62   What their lips uttered, which against me rose,

And what was ever whisper'd by my foes.

26563   I am their song, whether they rise or sit,

64   Give them rewards Lord, for their working fit,

65   Sorrow of heart, thy curse.  66  And with thy might

Follow, and from under heaven destroy them quite.

1  HOW is the gold become so dimme? How is

270Purest and finest gold thus chang'd to this?

The stones which were stones of the Sanctuary,

Scattered in corners of each street do lye.

2   The pretious sonnes of Sion, which should bee

Valued at purest gold, how do wee see

275Low rated now, as earthen Pitchers, stand,

Which are the worke of a poore Potters hand.

3   Even the Sea-calfes draw their brests, and give

Sucke to their young; my peoples daughters live,

By reason of the foes great cruelnesse,

280As do the Owles in the vast Wildernesse.

4   And when the sucking child doth strive to draw,

His tongue for thirst cleaves to his upper jaw.

And when for bread the little children crye,

There is no man that doth them satisfie.

2855   They which before were delicately fed,

Now in the streets forlorne have perished,

And they which ever were in scarlet cloath'd,

Sit and embrace the dunghills which they loath'd.

6   The daughters of my people have sinned more,

290Then did the towne of Sodome sinne before;

Which being at once destroy'd, there did remaine

No hands amongst them, to vexe them againe.

7   But heretofore purer her Nazarite

Was then the snow, and milke was not so white;

295As carbuncles did their pure bodies shine,

And all their polish'dnesse was Saphirine.

8   They are darker now then blacknes, none can know

Them by the face, as through the streets they goe,

For now their skin doth cleave unto the bone,

300And withered, is like to dry wood growne.

9   Better by sword then famine 'tis to dye;

And better through pierc'd, then through penury.

10   Women by nature pitifull, have eate

Their children drest with their owne hands for meat.

30511   Iehova here fully accomplish'd hath

His indignation, and powr'd forth his wrath,

Kindled a fire in Sion, which hath power

To eate, and her foundations to devour.

12   Nor would the Kings of the earth, nor all which live

310In the inhabitable world beleeve,

That any adversary, any foe

Into Ierusalem should enter so.

13   For the Priests sins, and Prophets, which have shed

Blood in the streets, and the just murthered:

31514   Which when those men, whom they made blinde, did stray

Thorough the streets, defiled by the way

With blood, the which impossible it was

Their garments should scape touching, as they passe,

15   Would cry aloud, depart defiled men,

320Depart, depart, and touch us not; and then

They fled, and strayd, and with the Gentiles were,

Yet told their friends, they should not long dwell there;

16   For this they are scattered by Jehovahs face

Who never will regard them more; No grace

325Unto their old men shall the foe afford,

Nor, that they are Priests, redeeme them from the sword.

17   And wee as yet, for all these miseries

Desiring our vaine helpe, consume our eyes:

And such a nation as cannot save,

330We in desire and speculation have.

18   They hunt our steps, that in the streets wee feare

To goe: our end is now approached neere,

Our dayes accomplish'd are, this the last day.

19   Eagles of heaven are not so swift as they

335Which follow us, o'r mountaine tops they flye

At us, and for us in the desart lye.

20   The annointed Lord, breath of our nostrils, hee

Of whom we said, under his shadow, wee

Shall with more ease under the Heathen dwell,

340Into the pit which these men digged, fell.

21   Rejoyce O Edoms daughter, joyfull bee

Thou which inhabitst Huz, for unto thee

This cup shall passe, and thou with drunkennesse

Shalt fill thy selfe, and shew thy nakednesse.

34522   And then thy sinnes O Sion, shall be spent,

The Lord will not leave thee in banishment.

Thy sinnes O Edoms daughter, hee will see,

And for them, pay thee with captivitie.

 1  REMEMBER, O Lord, what is fallen on us;

350See, and marke how we are reproached thus,

2  For unto strangers our possession

   Is turn'd, our houses unto Aliens gone,

  3  Our mothers are become as widowes, wee

    As Orphans all, and without father be;

355  4  Waters which are our owne, wee drunke, and pay,

    And upon our owne wood a price they lay.

  5  Our persecutors on our necks do sit,

    They make us travaile, and not intermit,

  6  We stretch our hands unto th'Egyptians

360    To get us bread; and to the Assyrians.

  7  Our Fathers did these sinnes, and are no more,

    But wee do beare the sinnes they did before.

  8  They are but servants, which do rule us thus,

    Yet from their hands none would deliver us.

365  9  With danger of our life our bread wee gat;

    For in the wildernesse, the sword did wait.

10  The tempests of this famine wee liv'd in,

    Black as an Oven colour'd had our skinne:

11  In Iudaes cities they the maids abus'd

370    By force, and so women in Sion us'd.

12  The Princes with their hands they hung; no grace

    Nor honour gave they to the Elders face.

13  Unto the mill our yong men carried are,

    And children fell under the wood they bare.

37514  Elders, the gates; youth did their songs forbeare,

15    Gone was our joy; our dancings, mournings were.

16  Now is the crowne falne from our head; and woe

    Be unto us, because we'have sinned so.

17  For this our hearts do languish, and for this

380    Over our eyes a cloudy dimnesse is.

18  Because mount Sion desolate doth lye,

    And foxes there do goe at libertie:

19  But thou O Lord art ever, and thy throne

    From generation, to generation.

38520  Why should'st thou forget us eternally?

    Or leave us thus long in this misery?

21  Restore us Lord to thee, that so we may

    Returne, and as of old, renew our day.

22  For oughtest thou, O Lord, despise us thus,

390    And to be utterly enrag'd at us?

SINCE I am comming to that Holy roome,

Where, with thy Quire of Saints for evermore,

I shall be made thy Musique; As I come

I tune the Instrument here at the dore,

  5And what I must doe then, thinke here before.

Whilst my Physitians by their love are growne

Cosmographers, and I their Mapp, who lie

Flat on this bed, that by them may be showne

That this is my South-west discoverie

10Per fretum febris, by these streights to die,

I joy, that in these straits, I see my West;

For, though theire currants yeeld returne to none,

What shall my West hurt me? As West and East

In all flatt Maps (and I am one) are one,

15So death doth touch the Resurrection.

Is the Pacifique Sea my home? Or are

The Easterne riches? Is Ierusalem?

Anyan, and Magellan, and Gibraltare,

All streights, and none but streights, are wayes to them,

20Whether where Iaphet dwelt, or Cham, or Sem.

We thinke that Paradise and Calvarie,

Christs Crosse, and Adams tree, stood in one place;

Looke Lord, and finde both Adams met in me;

As the first Adams sweat surrounds my face,

25May the last Adams blood my soule embrace.

So, in his purple wrapp'd receive mee Lord,

By these his thornes give me his other Crowne;

And as to others soules I preach'd thy word,

Be this my Text, my Sermon to mine owne,

30Therfore that he may raise the Lord throws down.

WILT thou forgive that sinn, where I begunn,

W^ch is my sinn, though it were done before?

Wilt thou forgive those sinns through w^ch I runn

And doe them still, though still I doe deplore?

  5When thou hast done, thou hast not done,

for I have more.

Wilt thou forgive that sinn, by w^ch I'have wonne

Others to sinn, & made my sinn their dore?

Wilt thou forgive that sinn w^ch I did shunne

10A yeare or twoe, but wallowed in a score?

When thou hast done, thou hast not done,

for I have more.

I have a sinn of feare y^t when I have spunn

My last thred, I shall perish on the shore;

15Sweare by thy self that at my Death, thy Sunn

Shall shine as it shines nowe, & heretofore;

And having done that, thou hast done,

I have noe more.

TO have liv'd eminent, in a degree

Beyond our lofty'st flights, that is, like Thee,

Or t'have had too much merit, is not safe;

For, such excesses finde no Epitaph.

  5At common graves we have Poetique eyes

Can melt themselves in easie Elegies,

Each quill can drop his tributary verse,

And pin it, like the Hatchments, to the Hearse:

But at Thine, Poeme, or Inscription

10(Rich soule of wit, and language) we have none.

Indeed a silence does that tombe befit,

Where is no Herald left to blazon it.

Widow'd invention justly doth forbeare

To come abroad, knowing Thou art not here,

15Late her great Patron; Whose Prerogative

Maintain'd, and cloth'd her so, as none alive

Must now presume, to keepe her at thy rate,

Though he the Indies for her dowre estate.

Or else that awfull fire, which once did burne

20In thy cleare Braine, now falne into thy Urne

Lives there, to fright rude Empiricks from thence,

Which might prophane thee by their Ignorance.

Who ever writes of Thee, and in a stile

Unworthy such a Theme, does but revile

25Thy precious Dust, and wake a learned Spirit

Which may revenge his Rapes upon thy Merit.

For, all a low pitch't phansie can devise,

Will prove, at best, but Hallow'd Injuries.

Thou, like the dying Swanne, didst lately sing

30Thy Mournfull Dirge, in audience of the King;

When pale lookes, and faint accents of thy breath,

Presented so, to life, that peece of death,

That it was fear'd, and prophesi'd by all,

Thou thither cam'st to preach thy Funerall.

35O! had'st Thou in an Elegiacke Knell

Rung out unto the world thine owne farewell,

And in thy High Victorious Numbers beate

The solemne measure of thy griev'd Retreat;

Thou might'st the Poets service now have mist

40As well, as then thou did'st prevent the Priest;

And never to the world beholding bee

So much, as for an Epitaph for thee.

I doe not like the office. Nor is't fit

Thou, who did'st lend our Age such summes of wit,

45Should'st now re-borrow from her bankrupt Mine,

That Ore to Bury Thee, which once was Thine,

Rather still leave us in thy debt; And know

(Exalted Soule) more glory 'tis to owe

Unto thy Hearse, what we can never pay,

50Then, with embased Coine those Rites defray.

Commit we then Thee to Thy selfe: Nor blame

Our drooping loves, which thus to thy owne Fame

Leave Thee Executour. Since, but thine owne,

No pen could doe Thee Justice, nor Bayes Crowne

55Thy vast desert; Save that, wee nothing can

Depute, to be thy Ashes Guardian.

So Jewellers no Art, or Metall trust

To forme the Diamond, but the Diamonds dust.

H. K.

And that Feare fannes their Heat; whilst knowing eyes

10Will not admire

At this Strange Fire,

That here is mingled with thy Sacrifice:

But dare reade even thy Wanton Story,

As thy Confession, not thy Glory.

15And will so envie Both to future times,

That they would buy thy Goodnesse, with thy Crimes.

Tho: Browne.

HEE that would write an Epitaph for thee,

And do it well, must first beginne to be

Such as thou wert; for, none can truly know

Thy worth, thy life, but he that hath liv'd so;

  5He must have wit to spare and to hurle downe:

Enough, to keepe the gallants of the towne.

He must have learning plenty; both the Lawes,

Civill, and Common, to judge any cause;

Divinity great store, above the rest;

10Not of the last Edition, but the best.

Hee must have language, travaile, all the Arts;

Judgement to use; or else he wants thy parts.

He must have friends the highest, able to do;

Such as Mecœnas, and Augustus too.

15He must have such a sicknesse, such a death;

Or else his vaine descriptions come beneath;

Who then shall write an Epitaph for thee,

He must be dead first, let'it alone for mee.

15Language lyes speechlesse; and Divinity,

Lost such a Trump as even to Extasie

Could charme the Soule, and had an Influence

To teach best judgements, and please dullest Sense.

The Court, the Church, the Vniversitie,

20Lost Chaplaine, Deane, and Doctor, All these, Three.

It was his Merit, that his Funerall

Could cause a losse so great and generall.

If there be any Spirit can answer give

Of such as hence depart, to such as live:

25Speake, Doth his body there vermiculate,

Crumble to dust, and feele the lawes of Fate?

Me thinkes, Corruption, Wormes, what else is foule

Should spare the Temple of so faire a Soule.

I could beleeve they doe; but that I know

30What inconvenience might hereafter grow:

Succeeding ages would Idolatrize,

And as his Numbers, so his Reliques prize.

If that Philosopher, which did avow

The world to be but Motes, was living now:

35He would affirme that th' Atomes of his mould

Were they in severall bodies blended, would

Produce new worlds of Travellers, Divines,

Of Linguists, Poets: sith these severall lines

In him concentred were, and flowing thence

40Might fill againe the worlds Circumference.

I could beleeve this too; and yet my faith

Not want a President: The Phœnix hath

(And such was He) a power to animate

Her ashes, and herselfe perpetuate.

45But, busie Soule, thou dost not well to pry

Into these Secrets; Griefe, and Iealousie,

The more they know, the further still advance,

And finde no way so safe as Ignorance.

Let this suffice thee, that his Soule which flew

50A pitch of all admir'd, known but of few,

(Save those of purer mould) is now translated

From Earth to Heaven, and there Constellated.

For, if each Priest of God shine as a Starre,

His Glory is as his Gifts, 'bove others farre.

Hen. Valentine.

I S Donne, great Donne deceas'd? then England say

Thou 'hast lost a man where language chose to stay

And shew it's gracefull power. I would not praise

That and his vast wit (which in these vaine dayes

  5Make many proud) but as they serv'd to unlock

That Cabinet, his minde: where such a stock

Of knowledge was repos'd, as all lament

(Or should) this generall cause of discontent.

And I rejoyce I am not so severe,

10But (as I write a line) to weepe a teare

For his decease; Such sad extremities

May make such men as I write Elegies.

And wonder not; for, when a generall losse

Falls on a nation, and they slight the crosse,

15God hath rais'd Prophets to awaken them

From stupifaction; witnesse my milde pen,

Not us'd to upbraid the world, though now it must

Freely and boldly, for, the cause is just.

Dull age, Oh I would spare thee, but th'art worse,

20Thou art not onely dull, but hast a curse

Of black ingratitude; if not, couldst thou

Part with miraculous Donne, and make no vow

For thee and thine, successively to pay

A sad remembrance to his dying day?

25Did his youth scatter Poetrie, wherein

Was all Philosophie? Was every sinne,

Character'd in his Satyres? made so foule

That some have fear'd their shapes, and kept their soule

Freer by reading verse? Did he give dayes

30Past marble monuments, to those, whose praise

He would perpetuate? Did hee (I feare

The dull will doubt:) these at his twentieth yeare?

But, more matur'd: Did his full soule conceive,

And in harmonious-holy-numbers weave

La Corona.

35A Crowne of sacred sonets, fit to adorne

A dying Martyrs brow: or, to be worne

On that blest head of Mary Magdalen:

After she wip'd Christs feet, but not till then?

Did hee (fit for such penitents as shee

40And hee to use) leave us a Litany?

Which all devout men love, and sure, it shall,

As times grow better, grow more classicall.

Did he write Hymnes, for piety and wit

Equall to those great grave Prudentius writ?

45Spake he all Languages? knew he all Lawes?

The grounds and use of Physicke; but because

'Twas mercenary wav'd it? Went to see

That blessed place of Christs nativity?

Did he returne and preach him? preach him so

50As none but hee did, or could do? They know

(Such as were blest to heare him know) 'tis truth.

Did he confirme thy age? convert thy youth?

Did he these wonders? And is this deare losse

Mourn'd by so few? (few for so great a crosse.)

55But sure the silent are ambitious all

To be Close Mourners at his Funerall;

If not; In common pitty they forbare

By repetitions to renew our care;

Or, knowing, griefe conceiv'd, conceal'd, consumes

60Man irreparably, (as poyson'd fumes

Do waste the braine) make silence a safe way

To'inlarge the Soule from these walls, mud and clay,

(Materialls of this body) to remaine

With Donne in heaven, where no promiscuous paine

65Lessens the joy wee have, for, with him, all

Are satisfyed with joyes essentiall.

My thoughts, Dwell on this Ioy, and do not call

Griefe backe, by thinking of his Funerall;

Forget he lov'd mee; Waste not my sad yeares;

70(Which haste to Davids seventy, fill'd with feares

And sorrow for his death;) Forget his parts,

Which finde a living grave in good mens hearts;

And, (for, my first is daily paid for sinne)

Forget to pay my second sigh for him:

75Forget his powerfull preaching; and forget

I am his Convert. Oh my frailtie! let

My flesh be no more heard, it will obtrude

This lethargie: so should my gratitude,

My vowes of gratitude should so be broke;

80Which can no more be, then Donnes vertues spoke

By any but himselfe; for which cause, I

Write no Encomium, but an Elegie.

Iz. Wa.